


Policies and Procedures

by froofie



Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom
Genre: British Actor RPF - Freeform, Celebrities, F/M, Inspired by Real Events, POV Female Character, POV First Person, Real people, benedict cumberbatch rpf, real person fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-14 01:52:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/831348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froofie/pseuds/froofie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How do you remain professional when you're working with Benedict Cumberbatch? Just wait....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Policies and Procedures

Benedict Cumberbatch may have the most innocent face in the world, but he is a dirty dirty boy.

We’d been working on a show together at a mid-sized theater company for five months, including rehearsals, previews and a full run. I had a strict “Don’t date the actors” policy and it was easy to abide by, mostly because the actors were so into themselves and/or their scene partners, they rarely noticed the stage hands, dressers or any other behind the scenes crew. Benedict was different I quickly found out. He asked how I was and actually wanted to know, said, “Hello, love” every time he saw me and made friends with the entire crew. It was easy to be charmed by him. He was a handsome, goofy breath of fresh air in an atmosphere usually rife with negativity and ungratefulness.

I tried to keep my head on straight. I had a job to do. I told myself he was nice to everyone, which was true, there was no reason to think anything else was going on. Cindy, the Production Stage Manager, and a good friend of mine, who clearly had my romantic interests at heart, said to me one day after rehearsal, “You know he watches you when you’re backstage working, right? Yesterday he asked me if you had a boyfriend.” I blew off her comment but not before it had sunk in a bit. I had a hot dream about him that night. When I got my usual, “Hello, love” as we passed in the hall the next evening, I could barely look at him. I _know_ I was blushing. I had to admit I liked him, which made working around him fantastically frustrating.

In the pub after just about every performance, he always found a way to sit next to me. If I left early, he would walk me to the Tube station entrance right outside the bar, clearly disappointed I was going home. I admit, we closed down the pub talking each other’s ears off and laughing at the top of our lungs on more than one occasion. As time went on, even if we ended up talking to other people around us, our knees would touch under the table. It turned me on like nothing else. One night, as I sat at another table with friends who had come to see the show, he ran his hand along my shoulders as he walked by. My friends made kissy noises at me the rest of the night.

When he and I worked together, our conversations revolved solely around technical aspects of the show, though if one of us openly cracked a joke in the green room, we would be the ones laughing the loudest. There was a lot of blushing, sideways glances, and maybe a wink or two. I’m sure people often secretly whispered, “Get a room.”  I got glares from his female on-stage love interest.

Nothing went further, as much as I wanted it and continued to, ahem, dream about it. He never asked me out and I was really quite happy for the attention without breaking my dating policy. I was fooling no one. We shared an undeniably strong connection and it was becoming more and more difficult to avoid nature. I ran out of batteries on more than one occasion. There was an allure to holding back, I found. Fortunately we were nearing the end of the run and I told myself he would either ask me out or leave without a word and then I would have even greater reason to enforce my dating rule.

oOoOoO

The company celebrated closing night with a giant dance party. Our stage became a disco which ebbed and flowed with activity and the lobby turned into a bar. Actresses dressed up and barely danced for fear of “getting too sweaty.” I spent most of the night letting loose in my own little non-verbal world. Occasionally, I’d turn around to find Benedict shaking his thing on the other side of the stage, sometimes glancing at me, sometimes lost in himself and the music. He was compelling to watch. We smiled at each other from time to time. Eventually he came over to dance with me and a circle my box office gal pals. He spun me around until I was dizzy and had to hold on to him to stay upright. The song ended but he kept me in his arms, just swaying.  The girls around us started giggling and we broke away, slowly.

As if on cue (and probably on purpose, because Cindy was the DJ), George Michael’s “Father Figure” started playing. Since he and I were the only ones on the dance floor, I looked at him in invitation but he averted his eyes and walked away. I didn’t have time to consider what he meant by his actions, nor be offended, because Matt, the sexy young apprentice, swept me up and gave me a hot grind in a dark corner of the stage. He wasn’t choosy, he’d been feeling up all the ladies during the party, so my delight at the attention didn’t go very far. I was too busy scanning the 300-seat auditorium for Benedict. I was afraid he’d left. Matt tried to kiss me as the song was finishing and I shoved him off, more out of irritation that I may have correctly assumed Benedict was going to leave without saying goodbye. I went to the ladies dressing room to calm down and get my things. I turned on my headset to see if Cindy was there so I could tell her I was clocking out. She radioed back.  I could hear her barely whisper, “You should probably come up here, girl.”

I made my way across the stage where a few couples were slow dancing, up through the theater and into the glassed-in sound and lighting booth. The tiny enclosed room, which was only big enough for a long table of technical equipment, two swivel chairs and a grungy couch, was dark save for the tiny clip lights over the computer and lighting consoles. Cindy was sitting in front of the cd player. Benedict was sitting next to her. My delight at seeing him overshadowed how unsettled and confused I felt. He turned his chair to face me, his face lit up. My heart melted. He ushered me to stand between him and Cindy, looking out onto the stage. He put his arm around my waist and mine rested on his shoulders. We stayed like that for a song or two, the three of us chatting, Cindy and I discussing the work we had to do to break down the set the next day. She poured us shots from her secret bottle of Jack Daniels.

Egged on by the booze and Benedict’s hypnotic hand rubbing up and down my side, I found myself leaning on him. He pulled me boldly onto his lap. I went down with a girly giggle. He embraced me with great strength, inhaling deeply. Five months of tension evaporated and my body went even more limp. My head leaned back against his shoulder. I felt a kiss land on my forehead. His cologne wafted up in all our quick movements. I could have licked his neck. I started to turn my head in the direction of his lovely length of exposed skin to see the Cindy looking at us from her chair, smiling wickedly. I sat up as innocently as possible for someone sitting on another person's lap. His hands stayed firmly on my hips, slightly digging in. It seemed like a secret. I was willing to keep it.

I engaged Cindy in conversation, helping her choose more songs to play, pretending I wasn't being felt up, which somehow made it hotter. From our perch the three of us watched the partiers frolicing on the floor. I was more than happy to stay right where I was. I had gotten my groove on well and now I was letting a very handsome man seductively run his large hands over my thighs in a darkened booth. Eventually I went back to leaning against his chest and opening myself to more touches. When Benedict’s hand trailed across my stomach and my left arm wrapped around behind his neck, Cindy said, “I’ll take that as my cue. I’ll just put this compilation cd on and tell everyone to get the fuck out. Have fun, kids. You’re in charge of lock up.”   
She turned off the console lights and left the booth. I heard her lock the door behind her. She went in front of the glass window and closed the curtains over it. The world shrunk down to just the two of us. My heart was racing in anticipation. I put my hand over Benedict’s, still running over my torso. I turned my face towards his, his almond eye shape even more pronounced that close up. He wetted his lips. He started to lean in for a kiss. I pulled away.

“Wait.”

“Hmm?” His pointer finger and thumb reached up to hold my chin still, tilting up my lips to his. He managed a peck. Fuck it. I put my lips back on his. He tasted like whiskey. I let him open my mouth with his, falling immediately into a deep, languid kiss.  The release of pressure from holding back for five months sublimely intensified the moment. It was the best kiss of my life.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time." The words spilled from his lips onto mine.

“Me, too.”

I couldn’t stop kissing him, but I was still mildly irritated. I managed to mouth the words against his lips.

“ _This_ is a change of attitude.”

“What’s that?” Our tongues met around our attempt at speaking.

“Thirty minutes ago you wouldn’t even slow dance with me.”  I couldn’t help but let displeasure sound in my voice.

“I’m so sorry.” Kiss. “I wanted to.” Kiss. “But I didn’t want you to feel this.” He took my right hand, crooking it behind me and placing it on his lap. Under the soft stiffness of his jeans I found he was very hard. I ran my hand along his length. He let out a deep whimper.

“And now?” I traced the tip of my tongue along his full bottom lip.

“I want you to feel it.”

“I _am_ feeling it.” There was only so much I could do in my position. I squeezed.

“Mmm. I like that.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

“What else do you like Benedict?”

“You’re a great kisser. Come here.”

We fell back into a rhythm of devouring one another slowly, then rapidly, tiny moans escaping, hands feeding through one another’s hair. Tongues tangling. The desire to get as close as possible felt urgent.  My neck started to strain from being at such an odd angle.

“My neck,” I breathed out. My tongue didn’t want to form letters. It wanted to press against his over and over. He wheeled us over seven feet so we could keep kissing on the way to the couch. He massaged my neck. I melted under his powerful sweet hands. I started to get up, but he held me back.

“Stay there.” I did, leaning against him. My eyes closed. His hand lightly brushed over my breasts, sending shivers all over. I felt him undo the button on my jeans. He lifted up my shirt a bit and ran his fingers along the waistband. Yes. I tipped my hips a bit.

“Do you like that?” his voice rumbled.

“I like that, yes.” I arched my back.

“Can I keep going?”

“Oh yes.”

“Good. I dreamt of getting in your pants like this once.” The zipper went down. There was just enough space for him to slide his fingers over to feel me. “You’re dripping.”

My hand reached back for another grope on him.

“It would appear so.”

“I’m going to enjoy getting my face wet.” He licked in my ear, rubbing his fingers around in my panties. His other hand reached under my shirt. My other arm went behind his head, grasping onto his messy hair. He thumbed my nipples over my bra. He stayed like that, feeling me, kissing the side of my face, for a while. It was wonderfully clear that for once I didn’t need much foreplay, but I sure as hell wasn’t ever going to say no to what he was doing.

“Fuck, you’re good.” I moaned and pressed against his hard thigh and his hand as it slid out. I opened my eyes. His fingers were glistening. He tasted one. Wow.

“Mmmm. Sweet.”

I groaned, closing my eyes at what his words did to me.

I stood up and turned to face him, straddling him on the chair. My hands against his face, I kissed him hard. Our mouths pressed against each other over and over. The sound of his hands over the fabric of my shirt as they  traveled the length of my back pulled me down even further into the pleasure of the moment. I took off my shirt, tossing it on the console. His hands returned to my back, the feeling of his skin on mine sent me over the edge. I swirled my hips over him, arching and sticking my breasts out, my head cocked back. He kissed every inch of my neck and cleavage, holding me steady over him. I found myself continually amazed at the physical strength he possessed and how arousing it was to feel him using that power on my body.  He tried to feed his fingers into my jeans to grab my ass. I hastily broke my rocking over him to stand up and take off my clothes but he stopped me, standing up.

“I’ve waited for almost half a year to undress you.” He kissed my neck while slowly trailing his long thin fingers around inside my waistband, teasingly pushing my jeans down over my hips and bottom. He crouched down, pulling my jeans over my legs. I kicked off my shoes and socks. He kissed my belly and I felt instantly beautiful. He stood, holding me, kissing me. His fingertips lightly smoothed over my skin. He reached under my panties and grabbed my butt, squeezing.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this.” He admitted, dropping his lips on mine.

“Your hand on my ass?”

“No. Well, yes. But no. Just...you. To touch you, feel you.” He unhooked my bra. I pressed my chest to his as I felt the straps fall off my shoulders and hang in the crook of my arms. We fell back into the couch, me again on his lap. He kindly took my bra off. I reached down and pulled off his grey t-shirt. The sight of his bare chest, finally available to me, made him seem vulnerable. He watched me as I ran my hands over him, exploring his muscular hills and valleys. He sat up, pressing our warm bodies together, his arms tight around me. We kissed. Once again I started to move my pelvis over him. I felt him push his hips up.

“I want to get your jeans soaking wet.” I boldly growled.

“Fuck yes. But God I love you in nothing but those panties.”

“Just a little taste then?”

He was busy nibbling my earlobe, stroking his tongue in my ear, but I finally heard him say, “Taste.”

I let loose, easily pressing and rubbing myself over him, his hands firm against my hips, feeling my body move on his. He took a breast in his mouth, wetting my nipple, greedily sucking. I bucked harder. The cover over his zipper was sufficiently damp and he was desperately pressing back up against me. I started to lose my mind. He managed to shift me over onto the couch, laying his body down over mine, hands eagerly searching over me.

He started to put his shirt under me on the couch, “I’m sure you want to make your mark on this company, but not like this.”

“I think this couch has seen it all.”

“Oh, but I plan to get you even wetter, love.”

“We’re gonna need Noah’s Ark.”

“Only if we can be the only two humans on the boat because I want to be in you for a long, long time,” he whispered in my ear.

“Why are we still talking?” I started to kiss him, my hands found themselves undoing his jeans.

He stopped me.

“What’s the matter?”

He was quiet for a minute and then he let out a resigned sigh.

“My cock is going to kill me for this, but I really can’t...You...um...”

Oh fuck, I had no idea what he was about to say, I had a sinking feeling I was going to be left alone on the dance floor, so to speak.

“Benedict...what?”

“I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve to be shagged on a dirty couch out in semi-public like this.”

“Oh. Um....it’s ok, really.”

“No, not for me. I really like you and I really want to fuck you and I’m too horny to find kinder words I’m sorry, but you deserve better. I want to give you something better.” I ran my hand down his face. He was right...goddammit. I’d never had a man stand up for me like that.

“How about a compromise?”  
“What’s that?”

“I really like you. You really like me. There’s something bigger between us than simply getting off. We can explore that later. But, I am not done touching you tonight and I don’t think you’re done touching me...”

“God no...”

“Let’s just have some fun. I’ve never really just playfully fooled around before.”

“Me, either.”

“Let’s be stupid teenagers, then.”

“Really dirty teenagers who can’t find a condom!”

“Yeah...” I laughed.

Thankfully the mood was not broken.

“You’re gorgeous.” He started to kiss down my neck, my collarbone, between my breasts, my stomach. Oh God.

“But, you’ll still need to put your shirt down, honey.” I lifted up my hips against his mouth and he spread the folded up shirt under me.

He pressed his face into my pink bikini briefs, teasing bites and flicking his tongue between the hem and my skin.

“I love your wet panties. What you did to my jeans. Naughty girl.” He snuck a finger inside the fabric, feeling around. I looked down at his whole body crowded up on the couch, my legs bent up by his ears. He kissed my upper thighs as his finger found its way in. I almost doubled over from the sensation.

“Right, off with these, then.” I raised my hips so he could peel off my panties. He put them in his back pocket and pretended I didn’t see him do it.

He laid on his stomach and explored me with a curiosity I don’t think he’d ever given himself the time or the permission to have. He ran his hands over my lower abdomen while he kissed around and into my sex. I felt oddly appreciated. He was quiet for a while, save for when he said the word, “soft” to himself. He chose his movements deliberately. Eventually passion overcame him and he dove in, licking my lips, burying his nose, kissing with an enthusiasm that I had never experienced. In that moment it dawned on me that, until that point, I may have been having bad sex with incompetent men. Or maybe I had had good sex with incompatible men. All I know is having Benedict going down on me was enough. Just Benedict. Didn’t matter what he did, it was him and he was all over me. He _wanted_ to be all over me, inside me. For the first time, I was with someone I very much wanted to _be_ _with_ , not simply get off with. My arousal was off the charts. I was losing my mind and I wanted it completely gone.

“Call me a naughty girl again.” He picked his head up. His curls stood up straight on his head from all my fondling. His eyes caught mine, lingering for a minute before a wickedness painted across his face.

“You naughty girl.” I watched the words form on his full lips.

“Yes.”

“With your naughty little bottom.” A second finger began to stroke in me.

“Mmmm...”

“And your sweet, naughty little pussy.” He sucked on my clitoris.

“Your naughty little tongue, Benedict. Oh God.”

Then he did what no other man had ever done to me. He started to vibrate his lips over me.

“Oh shit! Oh shi---!” I grabbed his head, pressing hard against him. I feared I might have hurt his neck with the force of my pull.

“Sorry, sorry. Ah, keep doing that.”

A third finger crept inside me, widening me just so. I felt full. His stroking paid off as the nerves of my g-spot fired off sending shivers all over my body. The vibrating, the licking, the sucking continued until the right rhythm revealed itself.

“Stay there.” My orgasm started to build. I panted out incoherent syllables. My eyes slammed shut, but not before stealing a glance down. I came to the image of his head between my legs, so involved, so focused. I can still see him in my mind now. His entire being screamed, "Give." I made him keep his lips on me a little longer, every vibration intensifying the release inside me. I felt myself contracting around his fingers. I squeezed myself around him.

My heavy breathing subsided.

I opened my eyes to find him.  He had his eyes closed, head resting on my right thigh. His lower face was wet, his pouty red lips glistened. Jesus.

“Oh God Ben. Thank you. I don’t know where you learned that, but you have a gift.”

“I used to play the trumpet at school.” He looked bashful but pleased with himself.

“I’m a lucky girl. A very happy lucky girl. And now it’s your turn.” I sat up and we switched positions until he was on his back. I crawled over his body. I kissed his face and tasted myself. I licked his lips clean.

“Put your hands on my ass.” He took hold eagerly. I arched my back, undulating my body over him, biting his jawline, licking up a pool of sweat in the crevice at the bottom of his neck, swirling my hips, feline, dipping my breasts on to his chest. I sat up and rocked my sex over his jeans a little more. He ran his fingernails over my stomach, up and around my breasts, squeezing. I held his hands on me so he could feel my gooseflesh and shivers.

I shimmied my way down his tapered taut waist, shifting up to nibble his nipples tight, to taste his torso under my tongue. He was a moaner for sure and I totally got off on the sounds he made in pleasure. I couldn’t wait to hear his reactions as I went lower. The front of his jeans were wet and, after I unbuttoned and unzipped him, found his underwear nearly soaked in one spot. He shifted his hips up so I could take off his jeans and socks, shoes having been removed earlier. He started to pull off his dark blue boxer briefs.

“No, leave them for a minute. I want to look at you.” In the closed-in booth, all I could smell was our sex. It permeated the air. It drove me on. His scent was incredibly intoxicating and totally unexpected. I immediately buried my nose against his cotton covered cock and his wetness. I mouthed over him straining against the fabric. He whimpered. Yes. I ran my hand along his bulge, teasing, feeling. Hard under soft. I flicked my eyes up. He was watching. I bit my lip for him. I mouthed the words “You’re so sexy.”

I reached my hand in for his cock. Once I was fully around him, his back arched and he let out a deep moan. Five months of thinking about me touching him realized. He was slick and stiff and I immediately started stroking, wanting to feel it all. His breath came in short bursts.

“This isn’t going to take long.” His arm was over his eyes. I saw him lick his lips.

I managed to get his underwear down a bit, sadly not completely off so that I could steal them for myself, though. My mouth kissed over his dripping tip, so full and dark pink. I licked the underside. Salty. I really could not get over how his musk affected me. I became an animal. I took him fully in my mouth and sucked hard.

“Oh! Hnnng...!” I sucked harder, I couldn’t help myself. He was so stiff, so wet and felt incredible and heavy in my mouth. He tensed up, hips pushing in quick bursts rather than long deep thrusts. I let him and found it easy to take his movements. I held on tight with one slicked up hand, my suction ranging from moderate to deep until I felt his fingers on my head holding me steady at his preferred level. He came quickly in my mouth with a couple of grunts and a long moan at the end. I laid my head against the back of the couch and let him come down in his own time.

When the satisfaction from our dalliance had subsided a bit, I didn't find myself left with the usual feeling that my partner and I were done with each other. On the contrary, it felt like he and I had just begun. I was pleasantly surprised.

I got up and put my t-shirt back on. I sat back on the couch and closed my eyes. I was slightly startled awake by his thumb wiping my mouth and face. He kissed my cheek and whispered in my ear.

“That was amazing. I’m a lucky boy, thank you.” He was sitting up, underwear back on, looking at me sweetly. We smiled, heads resting against one another, comfortable with the silence and the company.

Eventually the moment opened up again. I was the first to speak.

“I’m sorry about your shirt. I’ll get you a souvenir show t-shirt from the lobby to wear home.”

“Though this one will hold a much better memory.” He smiled.

“And my panties.” I cleared my throat. We laughed and went quiet again. He put his arm around me. I put a hand on his thigh. After a sigh, he was the next to speak.

“I’m so glad this show is over.”

“Why?”

“I really like you. I have a thing about not dating anyone I’m working with, though. It was all I could do to not quit just to ask you out.”

“And here I am in the position to ensure you’re kept employed.”

“Which do you prefer, that position,” he laid me back down, “or this one?” I looked up into his sheepishly grinning face.

“Depends on which one pays more.” We laughed and went back to kissing. Our affection for one another was palpable.

I pulled away, still feeling cheeky.

“Seriously, what kind of health insurance policy do you offer?”

“God I like you.” His mouth made the most adorable shapes when he spoke and smiled simultaneously.

Too tired for a second go, we sat up again and finished dressing. We became adorably shy. The moment felt slightly awkward and I tried to alleviate it with talking. We spoke at the same time.

“Do you want to go ou-” I stopped. He continued.

“This may be putting the cart before the horse, but would you like to have dinner with me sometime?”  
I laughed. “Yes. I’d like that.”

“Seems like we’re doing things a bit backwards, I know. I’m sorry.”

“At this rate we should probably take our relationship to the next level by introducing ourselves!”

He let out a little laugh, stepped close and nuzzled in my ear, “Yes.”

I gave my name and offered my hand for him to shake. He took it, kissed my palm and placed it on his cheek.

He looked me in the eye and said,

“Hello...love."


End file.
